Cold Shoulder
by Rumpelstiltskin und Vladimir
Summary: Reno takes a bullet and refuses to go to the hospital. -a rumpy only story-


**R: So, I currently have a new obsession. We got a new station and one of the shows on it is Renegade. And it's got Harlow and it's generally terrific if slightly cheesy (in a lovely way). Tremors the Series fans will probably love it. I know I do. Problem is, it's got practically no fanfiction. So I've gotta correct that a little, which means fluff happens. Enjoy.**

 ***DISCLAIMER* RV makes no claim to own Renegade or its characters. They are the property of Stephen J. Cannell. No profit is made from this writing.**

* * *

Reno clenched his shoulder, shivering and grinding his teeth as he stumbled through the snow behind the small, empty ski lodge. He practically collapsed once he was behind it, sitting heavily on a stack of firewood and scrambling for the cellphone stored away in his jacket. Punching in the familiar number with partially numb fingers, Reno prayed he'd get an answer sooner rather than later.

"Robert Sixkiller here," Bobby's voice answered after a short ring, and Reno breathed a sigh of relief.

"Bobby," he said, "Breyer... got away. I think he's got an accomplice, got the jump on me."

Bobby huffed slightly, and Reno could practically see his eye roll. "I told you that going after him yourself was a stupid move. Seemed all wrong! But do you ever listen to me-"

"Bobby," Reno interrupted, somewhere between a growl and a moan, "if you could save the scolding for later, I kinda need ya to get down here," he said, glancing at the blood soaked shoulder of his jacket. "I ate a bullet."

"You're shot?" Bobby demanded instantly, now nothing but worry. "Where are you?" Reno could already hear hurried footsteps on the other end.

"The ski lodge outside a town," he said after a moment, wincing in pain as he shifted his arm. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath. "I'd... prefer if you got here quick."

Reno heard the distinctive sound of Bobby's hummer starting. "Already on my way, brother," he assured, "Just hang in there."

Reno mumbled acknowledgement, trying to keep ahold of Bobby's voice as fog seemed to start settling into his mind. He'd been shot before, and knew that blood loss was his biggest worry here, and the cold setting into his bones wasn't helping at all. Bobby was still talking to him from the other end, and he was hanging onto his voice to keep himself awake.

The next thing Reno was aware of was being shaken- almost violently- and he snapped back into fuzzy awareness. Bobby's face was in his, worry in his dark brown eyes and shouting his name. "Thank goodness," he said once Reno focused his eyes on him. "Come on, I've got to get you outta here, Reno. You need to go to the hospital."

Reno shook his head adamantly at that. "No, I can't. Breyer knows who I am, so who's to say who else does?" he said. "I can't risk being caught right now."

"I don't want you dying on me, Reno," Bobby responded, furrowing his brow. "You've lost a ton of blood," he added, eyes following the dark red trail he could just make out in the snow covering the ground.

"I'm not going to die," he grumbled, "Just get me outta here. I'll be fine. The bleeding already stopped."

Bobby helped him to his feet and Reno braced himself against his friend as he guided him back through the snow to his hummer. Once they were inside with the heat cranked up, Bobby gave him a sidelong glance as Reno rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. "Don't you pass out on me again, Reno," he said sternly as he drove off.

Reno peeked open an eye to look at the bounty hunter. "I told you, I'm fine," he assured. "But I won't be if Breyer finds out I'm alive before we catch him and word gets back to Dutch that I'm in no condition to fight back."

"Yeah, well," Bobby started, "he'd have to get through me first."

* * *

As soon as they had arrived at the hotel room Bobby had rented, Reno tenderly peeled off his shirt before sinking into the nearest chair. Bobby was quickly ready with his first aid kit, well-stocked like any experienced bounty hunter with half a brain would have.

Looking over the wound, Bobby breathed a short sigh of relief. "Looks like the bullet passed through, you're lucky," he said before beginning to clean it.

Reno let out a muffled shout as his partner poured the disinfectant over the injury. "Yeah," he bit out, "lucky."

Bobby raised an eyebrow at his sarcasm. "Well, maybe next time you'll listen to me when I tell you not to go chasing known killers all by yourself in the snow."

"Whatever you say, Mom," Reno replied, rolling his eyes. He proceeded to squeeze them closed as Bobby dried the bullet wound and bandage both sides.

Bobby's eyes flicked to Reno's face momentarily before returning to his work. "Your promises are so reassuring," he said with his usual lilt in his voice, eliciting a small smirk from his friend. Bobby stepped back, putting on a wide grin. "All done, good as new. Well, will be," he said with a small chuckle.

Reno began to move his arm experimentally but changed his mind quickly and returned it to his side. "Thanks, Bobby," he said, sincere this time. He leaned his head back, lids getting heavy again, but opened his eyes when Bobby wrapped a hand around his good arm. He urged Reno to stand, and he did so reluctantly.

"I think you deserve a real bed tonight," Bobby explained, helping his injured partner over to the hotel bed. Reno collapsed onto it gratefully, practically asleep before his head even hit the pillow. After retrieving a blanket and spreading it over him, Bobby retired to the chair Reno had just been in, switching on the television and turning the sound down low.

He knew he wouldn't sleep a wink that night, but he wasn't going to let Reno know that.


End file.
